


under the shape of years

by eroticgropefest (goldfishsunglasses)



Series: better than fighting [2]
Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow series - Gemma T. Leslie
Genre: Awkward Boners, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Naked Cuddling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-17 07:03:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8134706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldfishsunglasses/pseuds/eroticgropefest
Summary: Simon is worried he’s being a tease, and Baz is learning how to be patient





	

**Simon**  
I’m fucked as soon as Baz walks in the door. He’s in a bloody suit. There’s nothing particularly special about today, just another Tuesday, but Baz is wearing a _suit_ , and suddenly it’s not.

 **Baz**  
I’m not even going to pretend I didn’t plan this.

 **Simon**  
There’s no way he didn’t plan this.

 **Baz**  
Simon’s made himself comfortable on my couch. It looks like he’s been there all day and I wonder why Fiona hasn’t kicked him out.  
As if reading my mind, he mumbles sleepily, “she’s still at wazzhisnames house–the Normal. She also told me to tell you to watch out for numpties”

“Oh, piss off.”

Honestly, when will she let that fucking go.

It was _one time._

It’s then that I notice the music playing. He’s raided Aunt Fiona’s records, and out of every option chose the _Sex Pistols._ I raise an eyebrow.

“Really?”

He cracks open an eye.

“I thought you weren’t coming home until half six”

“It _is_ half six.” I answer, and this jerks him fully awake.

 **Simon**  
I hadn’t meant to fall asleep. My last class of the day was cancelled, so I’d come to Baz’s flat hoping to surprise him, Instead, he surprised me. Not that I minded.

 **Baz**  
It’s been about a week since Simon had decided we now slept sans…well…anything. We haven’t progressed past that. The cuddling. The naked cuddling. Not that I minded. Simon still kisses me, obviously. And I still kiss him, _obviously._ But we haven’t done much more than that. Until right now. I think. I hope. Oh, Crowley, I really hope.

 **Simon**  
Baz is wearing far too many clothes.

 **Baz**  
This music really should be a mood killer. It almost is, but then Simon’s in front of me (when did he stand up?) reaching to push my suit jacket off my shoulders. He tries to slide it the rest of the way down, but I stop him.

“Let me hang this up.”

“Mood Killer.” He accuses with no real venom. I pretend to glare at him and he’s laughing that laugh that I love. It’s infectious, and I find myself giggling slightly, mostly from nerves and the anticipation of what could possibly come next.

I turn back around and he’s pushing his joggers down. He hasn’t got anything on underneath. My mouth goes completely dry. I’m still not used to the sight of a naked Simon, at least not fully. I’ve seen him shirtless plenty. He doesn’t wear one if he can help it. Too hard to manage with the wings. I pointed out that the tail made wearing trousers impossible as well and got a well placed thump on the arm for that one. His joggers are around his ankles now, and he struggles to kick them off. I take advantage of his momentary distraction to remove my own trousers (and pants. because _I_ am actually wearing pants.) Naked Simon takes a step forward and reaches for my shirt.

 **Simon**  
Baz watches as my fingers fumble over the buttons, shaking as I slowly work them open. He’s got that intense kind of stare, and when he looks at me like that I feel a bit…well…sexy. I know I’m fit, I’ve heard it enough over the years. Plus Baz tells me all the time. But I don’t always believe him, especially not when I’m looking at him. Baz has a footballer’s body. He’s all sharp angles and smooth planes and I’m dead jealous of his muscles. Not that I don’t have them. Muscles, I mean. But his are different. I’m shorter than him. Thinner too. I run my hands down his abs and feel the muscles contract under my fingers. His breath hitches as I pass his naval. I stop. I’m not ready for that today. I’d like to be. I know he’d like me to be too. I know he won’t push me. I know he’ll be patient. I know if I look down I’ll see his slowly hardening dick. I can already feel it against my hip, and I move back. He’s not the only one affected by this, but I’m not thinking about mine right now. My therapist says I need to stop that. Stop not thinking about things. Says it’s not healthy.

Well, she’s never had a fully naked Baz stood in front of her.

(At least I hope not.)

(I really need to stop thinking about my therapist right now.)

“Careful, love,” Baz murmurs, reaching out to grab my wing, “there’s a lamp there.”

“Thanks.” I mumble back, trying not to blush at my clumsiness. They’re always getting in the way, my wings. I know everyone thinks I’m mental for not getting rid of them, but the truth is I can’t. They’re the last bit of magic I have left, my last tie to the world of mages. Besides Baz, and Penny, and everyone else I guess. But this is something that’s _mine_. Was mine. Without them, I’m just some Normal. Plus, Baz doesn’t seem to mind. The vampire mage and Dragon Boy. Rejects from both sides. We match.

Where was I? Right.

Naked Baz. Naked me. Naked us.

I want to touch him, I want to hold him. I want him to hold me.

It’s not sexual, I swear it isn’t. It just…helps. and I feel his skin against mine, cool and comforting, everything seems a little bit more okay.  
I want to kiss him.

 **Baz**  
Simon’s eyes are already closed, and he reaches for my face blindly. I try to stay as still as possible as his fingers trace my lips. I want to kiss them. Instead, I grab his wrist and kiss _him_. he grunts in surprise, and then he’s kissing me back. He’s doing that thing with his chin that he knows I like. The record ends and the only sound in the room is the soft smacks of our lips connecting. The he grabs my head and forces his tongue into my mouth. That is so like Simon. Barreling his way through life. Even now. I can’t complain. Really. Not when his mouth is so wet and hot. Not when he’s panting so hard. Not when his tangling his fingers in my hair. Not when my cock is this hard.

And just like that, he’s gone. I shiver slightly at the absence of his warm weight against me, and my brain rushes to keep up with current events. Like the fact that Simon’s pushing me gently until my legs hit the couch. He keeps pushing until I stumble, not stopping until I’m flat on my back. The cushions shift and He’s lying on his side next to me, one hand propping up his head and one on my chest. He’s not looking at me. The hand on my chest is moving, little circles that are driving me absolutely _mad._

 _“Snow.”_ I try to growl, but it comes out sounding desperate and needy.

“It’s been awhile since you called me Snow.”

“It’s been awhile since you tortured me like this.”

“I never _tortured you._ ”

“Not on purpose.”

He’s shifted so he’s holding himself above me, just like the first time we did this, only now it’s different. He doesn’t make me reach for him, instead his arms shake as he drops kiss after kiss onto my waiting lips. His chest brushes mine with every dip. I fight to keep my hands by my side, but it’s a losing battle and I’m about to reach for his hair when he grabs my hand, intertwining our fingers. His other hand tangles itself in my hair. I brace myself for the inevitable _thump_ , but it never comes.

 **Simon**  
There are some times the wings are useful. Like when you’re making out with your boyfriend and your arms get tired but you don’t feel like crushing him today.

 **Baz**  
The rooms darker, and I realize it’s because Simon’s got his wings out. Out out. One’s hooked over the back of the couch (how is he _doing_ that?), and it shouldn’t work like that but I’m not going to question it. I know why he’s keeping his distance. Partially because he’s afraid of hurting me. And partially because he’s afraid of what will happen if we touch right now. I know he’s hard. I can see it. I can feel it. I don’t mention it for fear of spoiling this perfect moment.

And then I feel my fangs pop out.

Fucking hell.

Simon must feel them to, because he jerks his head back.

“Just give me a moment,”I say, rushing to cover my mouth, “and then we can…I mean if you…do you want to keep going?”

I see him hesitate, and he shakes his head. Which is fine, of course. Baby steps, and all that. Anyway, I want our first time to be perfect. Which is cliche, but aren’t most things? Simon deserves the best, and I want to give it to him. Or he can give it to me. Fuck, I need to stop thinking like this. I’m going to have to get up in a minute to sort myself out, but right now Simon is so warm against me and his small smile is so content that it distracts me from my…problem. I know he’s hard as well, but he seems to have more self-control. Or maybe he just hasn’t noticed.

 **Simon**  
I can’t let myself think about it because once I do, it’ll be all I think about. Sex. With Baz. Sex with Baz. Baz and me having sex. Me having sex with Baz. Crowley, I’m doing it now. I feel like the world’s worst boyfriend right now. It’s obvious he wants this, and I want it too. Just…not yet.

 **Baz**  
I think he’s asleep until he speaks.

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“For this,” he gesturing down, “for stopping…for teasing you and–”

“Simon, I’ve been in love with you for almost half my life, do you really think I mind?”

“I thought you didn’t think you were alive.”

“I didn’t. Not for a long time.”

“What changed?”

“You know what changed.”

“So…you’re okay? With…with just kissing?”

“I would kiss you forever if we didn’t need to breathe.”

“And eat.” He reminds me, and I snort. Only Simon could think about food right now. How Simon can actually think about anything right now is a mystery to me. Unfortunately, I lack that ability, and I poke at his shoulder.

“I need to get up. I need to go…”

 _“Noooooo…”_ He whines, shifting his hips, and I can tell the exact moment he realizes.

“Oh. _Oh._ ”

He’s blushing, and it’s so beautiful, he’s so beautiful, that is almost hurts to push him off. But I manage. Barely. I feel his eyes on me as I leave the room, and if that knowledge adds an extra swing to my hips, well, that’s just not my fault.

 **Simon**  
It’s hard to calm down when Baz is in the next room having a wank, so I decide to distract myself by picking up our clothes. Only I can’t find mine. The door to his room creaks and then I feel the familiar presence of Baz behind me. Christ, it’s only been a minute. He must have been really…nope. Not thinking about that.

“Have you seen my…” I can’t finish the sentence. Because Baz is standing in front of me, smirking, my joggers slung low on his hips.

_Merlin._

**Author's Note:**

> [reblog on tumblr ( ﾉ ^ヮ^ )ﾉﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ](http://eroticgropefest.tumblr.com/post/150923292102/under-the-shape-of-years)


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